


Risky Business

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [45]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: A group of suicides bring the BAU to Wyoming at JJ's insistence. But both Piper and JJ's ghosts haunt them as they work through the case.
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 20





	Risky Business

Her deep blue eyes surveyed the file slowly, a pen balanced between fingers as the phone rang. She wasn’t new to phone calls, even this late. It was part of her job, much to the other ladies’ chagrin on girls’ nights, to take phone calls when no-one else could. So, she raised the dark receiver to her ear, using the other hands to sweep her fringe away from her eyes. Any other case, perhaps she would have evaluated it with less passion, but JJ realised as she slid a small red box closer to her, she had no other choice. With that decision made and a small gold locket clasped around her neck, she grabbed the files and moved to Hotch’s office, slumping her shoulders as she found his office empty, save for his suit jacket on the back of the chair. _Not again._

* * *

“I don’t need self-defence training, Hotch.” But Piper’s protests fell on deaf ears.

“You want back in full-time, don’t you?” She narrowed her eyes at the grinning boss, his arms taut as they spread apart.

“Why do I get the feeling you just want to knock me on my ass?” she muttered as she fell into a practiced stance in front of him. She bounced on the balls of her heels; her eyes trained on his feet as she grumbled.

“First rule of combat: never take your eyes off your opponent,” he managed before he lunged, only to punch air as Piper sidestepped him, twirling away from him.

“Eyes don’t give away attack strategy, Hotch.” She was being glib. He hated glib. Aaron twisted on his heel to meet a grinning Piper. She ducked under another swing. “Maybe you need training, Hotch,” she taunted. Aaron shook his head, exhaling before launching himself at Piper. But she’d already expected it, bouncing down to her knees as she twisted around him, tossing a jab behind his right knee before latching her elbow around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist, dragging him down to the mat with her. She breathed hard, the stench of their sweat strong as she held on tight to a twisting Aaron until he tapped her thigh twice and she released. She lay on the floor of the training room for a moment when Aaron extended his arm to her. She grasped it, pulling herself up to meet Hotch’s gaze. She smiled, hoping for a reprieve, to no avail as Hotch returned to his stance.

Her boss became unrecognisable as the pair exchanged blows, Aaron’s rapid limbs slamming into her raised arms, each hit stinging her arms until she sidestepped his cut to latch onto his wrist. She curled her wrist, twisting Hotch’s arm behind his back. Before he could react, she released his arm and Aaron, sensing release, twirled violently to swing his arm around. Except she had already ducked, only to sweep his legs out from under him. He felt his head slam to the mat and Piper’s knee press into his chest as he gasped for breath, his eyes meeting Piper’s wild gaze. For a moment, she was something else. Something animal. And then it was gone as her grin returned and she straightened, offering him a hand up. Aaron rose as he caught sight of JJ standing in the corner with four files clutched underneath her arm. Piper folded her mouth into a line, grabbing a towel and bag, waving to JJ as she padded out of the room. Aaron dabbed at his neck with a towel as JJ approached him.

“I just got a call and some case files from a Sheriff Samuel in Uinta County, Wyoming. 6 nights ago, two different teens were found hanging.”

“Hanging?” He was still breathless as he wiped his hands and reached out for the file, glancing through it.

“In their bedrooms. Trish Leake was dead when she was found. Ryan Krouse was revived on scene, but then died a few days later in the hospital.” Hotch looked up at JJ, about to open his mouth when she continued. “I know we don't handle suicides. But the previous Friday, two more boys a few towns over were found hanging on the backs of their doors.”

“4 successful suicides in the same rural county in a week?” Hotch raised an eyebrow. “That's, uh, way above the national average.”

“I know. These kids don't fit the pattern,” she explained, trying to ignore the stench of sweat. “No drug or alcohol abuse, no antidepressants, no prior arrests. These are just plain good kids who decided to hang themselves at approximately the same time on a Friday night.” JJ’s shoulders sagged as Aaron pursed his lips, gaze returning to the file in his hand. “When someone feels trapped in what feels like a hopeless situation, pulling the trigger or swallowing pills or hanging yourself seems like the only way out. None of that seems to exist here. Something's really wrong. Hotch, I can feel it.” He recognised the hidden plea in her voice. It nagged him. There was something personal in this case for her. He just didn’t know what it was. JJ sensed the uncertainty in his mind and tried for one last attempt. “Look, all these events happened on a Friday. It's Wednesday. We're not on another case right now.”

“All right,” Hotch managed. “Generate an equivocal death investigation while I grab a shower and get everybody on the jet. We’ll determine whether these are homicides or suicides. And even if they are suicides...” he said, gaze returning to the adolescent in the file. “There's definitely something wrong here.”

* * *

Emily tapped the desk as the rest of the team took their seats, sensing as JJ came up behind her to pass a cup of coffee over. Derek was perched on a table next to her facing Penelope and Piper who looked up from her own file as Penelope spoke. “Sir, it’s not that I’m not glad to be here, because I am. I just don’t understand why.”

“One of the aspects of an equivocal death investigation, when suicide is a probability, is an indirect personality assessment. Our victims are all internet generation kids. There should be invaluable personal data on their computers to mine for the evaluation. If they committed suicide, Evidence of it will probably in their cyber world.”

“So, I'm gonna snoop through dead kids' computers?” Piper lay a hand on Penelope’s thigh, squeezing softly before looking back at the file solemnly.

“This plane rarely makes pleasure trips,” Rossi reminded her gently as Reid drank the remnants of his coffee in his seat next to Hotch who started to dive into the victimology of the 4 kids.

“Well, all four of them were decent students,” Emily started. “Different neighbouring towns but same school and same county.”

“They were active in sports and the community,” Derek added.

“Intact families, no mental disorders, no precipitating events. These are just average good kids,” Rossi skimmed over.

“Maybe that was it though,” Piper thought aloud. “Could be that their life was too perfect and the stress of that got to them.”

“The first few days leading up to a teenager's suicide are usually very telling,” Spencer conceded. “Their behaviour is transparent. There's a multitude of indicators.”

“Yeah, but the most common don't exist here,” JJ contradicted. “There aren’t any prior attempts, no period of deep depression, no withdrawal from family members, no spontaneous proclamations of love.”

“Spontaneous proclamations of love?” Emily asked, sensing surprise within the team. While JJ was a very capable profiler, she tended to stay away from the cases themselves.

“Sometimes a suicidal person, in the days leading up to the act, will just blurt out "I love you" to family, sort of like a goodbye.” Piper’s brows furrowed.

“It’s true,” she encouraged. “They’ll leave gifts, little messages, talk about how much better things would be without them. Sort of like patients who know they’re about to die,” Piper explained. “Like they’re getting their affairs in order before…” Piper trailed off, her gaze returning to the photos of four kids in her hands.

“What about the method of suicide?” Rossi posed from his seat in the corner next to Emily, taking the attention away from Piper and JJ.

“Well, hanging is often considered to be a simple suicide method that doesn’t require complicated techniques,” Spencer started.

“Except there was a study on 2010 of people who attempted suicide by hanging and lived,” Piper added, “So, it’s not completely accurate.”

“That’s not to say it isn’t common. It’s the most commonly used method in the US, second only to firearms.” Spencer winced internally as Piper stiffened at his comment.

“Right,” Hotch said decisively. “We'll start with the latest two victims. If they were suicides, let's find out what drove them to it.” The team nodded in agreement and Piper moved over past JJ to the coffee pot. JJ tapped her foot, chewing her lip before turning around and moving closer to Piper.

“Did you deal with a lot of suicides? Back when…”

“No.” Her tone was flat, her eyes trained on the coffee machine. JJ leaned against the counter of the alcove, waiting for Piper to continue. But she never did. She simply grasped her coffee mug and moved past her original seat to the other end of the plane away from the group as Hotch watched her.

“This isn’t going to be a good case is it?” he murmured out of earshot from everyone except Spencer.

“I don’t think so.”

* * *

Derek left the car first, Piper and Emily right behind him, as the team convened in front of the sheriff watching JJ shake hands with the uniformed woman. “Thanks for coming out. My county's getting pretty shook up. I got this reporter won't stop calling. I'm holding him off, but he's connecting the dots on the number of suicides.” Derek raised an eyebrow and Emily met his gaze, confusing the Sheriff. “Should I call him back?”

“No, not just yet,” JJ replied. “We need to be very careful about when we release this information.”

“Sensationalising these deaths may cause a domino effect with other kids,” Derek explained.

“Involving the media risks inadvertently making suicide seem desirable to other vulnerable young people,” Piper continued. “We don’t want that.”

“The term is suicide contagion,” Spencer added. “The spread of suicidal thoughts among a group of people that sometimes results in copycat acts. It's especially prevalent in teen cases, and studies suggest that media coverage is sometimes associated with more deaths.” The sheriff nodded before Penelope spoke up about needing a place to set up.

“We don’t have much of a command centre,” Sheriff Samuels admitted.

“Fret not. I’ve got my own. I just need your juice.” Rossi smiled from his stand next to her. The team followed the sheriff inside to dump their bags before dividing into groups. Piper, Derek and Spencer took one family while Hotch, Emily and JJ took the other. Spencer joined Derek and Piper, walking with a slight limp as they approached the house before waiting for the door to swing open.

“Hello, sir,” Derek started as the three of them held up their badges to the weary father standing at the door. “We’re with the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

* * *

Emily stood beside JJ’s seat on the couch next to Hotch as they listened intently to the grieving parents. “She was so excited about graduating high school next year. She couldn't wait for her SATs.”

“Was Trish dating anybody?” Emily asked her, her posture loosening slightly as she spoke. Her father, Mr Leake was quick to say no, but her mother had a different story.

“Billy Sullivan,” she conceded, throwing a quick side glance at her husband as she spoke. Mr Leake sighed, rubbing his face as he got up to pace. His wife, Hotch noticed, seemed to be conflicted between remaining dignified in front of the agents or moving to her husband’s side to console him.

“What is it?” Aaron asked, his voice gentle and balanced.

“She ran up over $100 texting last month. And, we, um, we grounded her, and we took away her cell.” He stopped pacing at the voice of his wife.

“Not we. Me. I did that.” He ran a hand over his face, turning down as his voice soared. “Why didn't you tell me she had a boyfriend?”

“Because you would have freaked out,” Mrs Leake said simply, not meeting her husband’s piercing gaze.

“No, I wouldn't,” he protested, ignoring the increasingly uncomfortable agents.

“You are right now.”

“Not because she had a boyfriend, because I may have caused—" He couldn’t say it and JJ intervened.

“Mr Leake,” JJ said, taking on a placating tone she would with Henry. “If your daughter committed suicide, it wouldn't have been because of some punishment. It's so much more complicated than that,” she said, gesturing with her hands as she tried to explain, but it was evident by the looks of panic on both Aaron and Emily’s faces as well as the confused looks she received from the pair seated in front of her that she had clearly made things worse.

“If?”

JJ felt panic flood through her body as she cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

“You said "if" she committed suicide.” She was saved from the expectant looks of the couple by Hotch’s request.

“May we see Trish’s room?” The woman’s gaze never left JJ’s face as the former nodded and the group vacated their respective positions to make their way to the teenager’s room.

* * *

Piper thanked the father as she led the boys into the teenager’s bedroom. “I knew he didn’t kill himself,” the mother said, her unprompted announcement causing the agents to straighten and look back at the door. Piper’s heart broke for the ashen-faced couple. “He wouldn’t do that to us.” Derek’s head whipped to look at Spencer, but he’d already turned to Piper.

“I’m sorry?” Her voice was soft, neutral.

“Well, that's, uh, that's why you're here. The FBI wouldn't be investigating a suicide, right?” She licked her lips before attempting to answer the query.

“The FBI has opened what's called an equivocal death investigation,” she said, stepping forward and the boys moved to examine the room. “We’re worried that more kids are at risk, but our investigation will try and sort it all out for you. We’re just trying to understand why, that’s all,” she explained, moving her arm to comfort the father, turning at the sound of Derek’s voice.

“No secret hiding places or drug paraphernalia.” She saw his head bob out of the sliding wardrobe as Spencer held up a picture frame.

“Ryan’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” the father managed, withdrawing his right hand from his pocket to point at the picture. “Uh, Shaunna. They seemed really good together.”

“Did he ever date Trish Leake?” Piper asked, her voice tender.

“I never heard of Trish Leake until we met her parents at the hospital, uh, Friday.” Piper nodded, gazing around the room before locking onto Spencer’s eyes. She moved over to his side as he handed her the report.

“Seems like he got pretty good grades,” he murmured to her.

“And this letter from the football coach?” Derek asked as he looked up from over Piper’s shoulder.

“Uh, Coach Braswell wanted him to... Be in varsity next year. Quarterback.”

“Uh, where is Ryan's computer?” Spencer asked as Piper placed the report on his bed gingerly.

“Um, we have--we have one in the family room.”

“He didn't have his own?”

“Uh... We were worried about, uh, unsupervised online time, so we wanted him in the middle of everyone. I can—I can go show you.”

“Actually, if you just get us the, uh, network IP address, I believe our technical analyst can go over it off-site.” He nodded to Spencer, beckoning him to follow him and his wife downstairs, leaving Derek and Piper upstairs. Piper sank onto Ryan’s bed, combing her hair back with both hands. Derek raised an eyebrow at the sight of Piper resting her forehead on top of her clasped hands, almost in prayer. He lay the coach’s letter on the desk carefully before taking a seat next to Piper. He nudged her shoulder playfully.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she mumbled, and Derek punched her shoulder. “Ow. What was that for?” She rubbed her shoulder, shooting him a rueful smile.

“For not telling me what’s wrong.” His voice was firm, yet tender and Piper recognised the tone. It was the same tone he held with Daniel when he didn’t tell her about his injuries. The same tone she held with Lucy when she protested about homework and she couldn’t help a small smile at the feeling of relief. Piper lay her head on his shoulder as Daniel had all those years ago. She wouldn’t hold back now, not when she had Derek, not when she had a shoulder to lean on.

"Do you think she knew I loved her before she died?" Her voice wasn’t more than a whisper and Derek wrapped an arm around her. She laced her fingers through his free hand

“Course she did.”

“I never said it.” He felt a warm drop seep through his shoulder. “If I’d just said it—”

“She knew,” Derek said, his tone still firm and Piper closed her eyes slowly until she heard footsteps approach. She leapt up, making to rummage through Ryan’s desk before wiping at her eyes. She kept her back to the door as a beaming Spencer appeared with a scrap of paper.

“Emily texted. They got Trish’s laptop. We should head back.” Piper inhaled deeply, closing her eyes before turning on her heel, a faux grin plastered on her face as she moved to pluck the paper out of Spencer’s hand and brush past him downstairs. Spencer’s mouth folded into a line. “Her mom?” Derek nodded solemnly.

“These cases aren’t easy on anyone.”

* * *

Penelope was seated, encircled by her team of laptop screens and favourite people, delving through Trish and Ryan’s online worlds. Except she couldn’t see anything on the screens. “Well, that’s weird,” she muttered. “There's nothing here.” She heard surprise from Emily.

“Nothing useful?”

“Nothing at all. Look, there's no root directory,” Penelope said, clicking through Trish’s laptop. “There's no operating system. The registry appears to be blank.”

“But why would she have an empty computer set up?”

“I did not say empty, I said appears to be blank,” Penelope replied cryptically with a grin and glint they all recognised.

“Meaning?”

“I'm gonna need a little while.” She felt Derek squeeze her shoulder as she tapped away, ignoring how JJ moved away to the evidence board that Rossi had set up, Hotch following close behind. The tall blonde sensed her boss approach as she gazed at the pale limbs and faces mournfully.

“JJ–” he started.

“I know. I know. I never should have said ‘if’. Believe me, the last thing I want Is to make things worse for these families. Look, I'm not invested in these not being suicides. I just... I want to try and keep this Friday from being like the last two.” Hotch looked at her kindly, taking in her defensive posture before Penelope yelled out.

“I got it! It was--it was just a basic trojan horse. It just hid the directories, didn't erase them.” Piper leaned over Penelope’s shoulder.

“Oh, god.”

“What is it?” Hotch asked as he walked over.

“She was on a choking game site the night she died,” Penelope said, her voice soft in horror and Derek noted how Piper closed her eyes but he couldn’t tell what it was.

“A what?” No one noticed Piper’s grip on the chair tighten as she spoke or JJ’s face beginning to pale.

“Uh, it's a game that kids play where they choke themselves to get a buzz, to get high.”

“They call it the good kids' high,” Spencer started, moving from his position to get a good look at the website. “You get lightheaded and a sense of euphoria even though no actual drugs are involved. It's something kids in high school play.”

“Check, sorry,” Piper cleared her throat. “Check Ryan’s IP address.” It took Penelope mere minutes to find that both kids had been on the site at the same time.

“It wasn’t suicide,” Derek breathed.

“Hold on, there’s a text to voice icon. Let’s see what happens.”

_Come on, try it. We all do it. I dare you._

“I dare you?” The sheriff spoke, quiet anger laced in her voice as Spencer linked a pinky with Piper who stood, eyes wide, staring at the computer.

“Someone was orchestrating this,” Emily explained in horror. “Purposely getting the kids to choke themselves.”

“A god complex if I ever heard of one,” Piper muttered after Emily, tightening her hold on Spencer.

“There's a whole subculture around this game,” Penelope explained, scrolling through the site. “They make up names for it, they do it at parties.”

“But someone is daring these kids in this area to play the game,” Rossi announced, Hotch turning his head slightly towards Dave to listen.

It's a contest. And there are rules. Come on, Evans High, this is the big one,” she readout. “Garfield edged out Casper High last week. You gonna let them diss us?”

“Diss—sounds like a kid,” Emily pointed out. “Who else would pit schools against each other?”

“Reckless teenage competition,” Piper spat bitterly.

“The school that logs the most high time this Friday wins,” Penelope continued.

“Friday, tomorrow,” JJ breathed.

“Get your friends on board. Practice makes the high last longer. Gotta do it alone and video it with your webcam and upload it to the site for it to count.”

“Doing it alone requires ligatures. He's basically encouraging them to play the deadliest form of the game with no one there to revive them.”

“Garcia shut the site down,” Hotch demanded but Penelope looked up to her boss.

“Sir, I can— I can totally do that but I, I don’t think you want me to.”

“Why?”

“Right now this site is our only way to track the unsub, and if I cut into it, he will certainly know we're watching him, in which case he'll shut it down and he'll write a simple change in code, bring it back up In a more covert fashion. Plus, there's no telling how many servers it's replicated on, anyway.”

“You're right,” Hotch nodded before turning to the sheriff. “We're ready to give the profile.”

* * *

The team stood in front of the entire sheriff’s department, save for JJ who was currently holding a conference to deliver the profile to the parents and teachers. Derek leaned on the table close to Piper who was fidgeting behind him. She was never nervous, Spencer noted, not with speeches. He remembered countless conferences and lectures where she’d commanded the attention of swathes of students and experts. Yet she couldn’t face a room full of officers. She barely heard Hotch start delivering the profile.

“We believe the unsub responsible for these deaths could be a teenager,” their leader started.

“He's a loner,” Emily continued. “He doesn't participate in team sports or group activities. He's withdrawn, has very low self-esteem.” Her eyes flicked to Piper who was playing with a stray strand of her cardigan sleeve, then to Spencer who continued the profile.

“His only form of pure interaction is online. He engages in an activity that draws attention to himself yet isolates him from his peers.” He paused, waiting for Piper to continue, but she was in a sort of daze until Derek poked her surreptitiously.

“Sorry, uh.” Piper gazed out into the row of faces, assuming her position between Derek and Emily as she pulled the hems of her cardigan closer to her chest. “There are warning signs for these kids that are avid participants. Look out for bloodshot eyes, marks on their necks, migraines, disorientation.” She took a deep breath. “The unsub has disdain for anyone better off than him, challenging kids who most likely have everything he doesn’t have. We’re talking about stable home life, family, good grades, social life, secure future.”

“In real life, he considers himself a loser,” Rossi added as Emily laced a hand through Piper’s in comfort. “In cyberspace, he can pull strings. Makes him feel powerful. Look for someone with an absent parent, someone who feels powerless.”

“Does this kid know that other kids are dying because of him?” Piper bit back a scoff as Derek replied to the officer’s doubt.

“He's choking himself and daring others to do it, so we're most likely looking at reckless homicides here. We’ve alerted parents and teachers of the profile as well so keep an eye out for any reports or complaints.”

“That’s all. Thank you,” Hotch dismissed and Piper took advantage of the crowd spilling out to slip out the doors mostly unnoticed. Emily made to follow but was stopped by Rossi’s voice.

* * *

Piper pushed past the glass doors, determination etched into her face as she strode towards nowhere in particular. She couldn’t see anything, not the concrete her low heels clacked against or the wind whipping her long cardigan. All she saw was a kind, pale face, a gunshot wound to her stomach. Unconsciously, her hand flitted to her abdomen as she stormed past JJ, only to stop as the other woman clasped her arm. “Piper, is everything okay?” She thickly shook her head and JJ looked back at the precinct before turning back to her colleague. “Let’s take a walk. We’re not due at the school for an hour and a half.”

JJ dug her hands into her coat pockets as the two women paced the footpath. “So, your sister?” Piper started. JJ smiled weakly.

“How’d you know?” She shrugged, eyes trained on her feet.

“You don’t date Dr Reid without picking out a few statistics. The average people in an American household is 3.4 people. Small towns err on the side of 4 to 5. I know you have a brother, but brothers don’t gift simple lockets. They seem to have it in their heads that the more extravagant, the better. Not sisters. Plus, you’ve never worn that necklace before, and you were insistent on us taking this case.” JJ stopped, fingering the gold locket on her chain.

“My sister gave this to me when I was 11. She just came into my bedroom one afternoon and told me that no matter what happened, she loved me. This was her favourite necklace, so I told her I couldn't take it, but she insisted. I, of course, was secretly very happy, 'cause I always wanted one just like hers. That's the last time— I never...” She trailed off, taking a deep breath as she stared into the distance.

Piper held up her hand to JJ who looked at the silver rings on her fingers. “My mom gave me the set when I was 14. Two months before…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t even pay attention to her. Barely remember what she’d told me.” She chuckled. “I remember we had gone to school but halfway there, I’d realised I’d forgotten my jacket at home. I came home and ran up to my room, couldn’t find it. So, I checked Lucy’s room and found it in the closet. That’s when I heard the first shot.” They took a seat on the bench, JJ listening intently to Piper’s wavering voice. “Dad was a cop, so I just assumed it was some intruder attacking him and I hid in a corner for a good hour.” She blinked away the tears as she took a breath, gazing at the cloudy sky. “I didn’t even realise Mom must have been alone and finally I got up, went down to their room, opened the door and she was there. Slumped on a chair. She’d bled out for an hour. I didn’t even think—” JJ sighed.

“You know, the worst part was that I never said it back,” JJ sighed. “I never said I loved her. You think she knew?” Piper nodded.

“Yeah. The same way I know Lucy and Daniel both love me. She knew. That’s how family works.” JJ snorted softly.

“I think about her every day,” she sighed. “I just miss her.”

“What do you think about?” Piper smiled softly and JJ closed her eyes as she thought about it.

“What I would’ve told her about. How much she’d have loved Henry. What she would’ve thought about Will. You?”

“Ugh, all the crap Dan and Luce get up to.” She laughed quietly. “How much she’d have loved Spencer.”

“Did it ever get better?”

“Not better,” she said. “Easier. I started journaling. Writing little notes and letters to her. Just have to make sure Spence never finds them. He might think I’ve finally lost it.” The two laughed.

“Thanks, Pipes.” JJ smiled warmly at her.

“For what?” She said through a giggle.

“Making me feel less alone.” JJ tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before Piper leaned in to hug her.

“You’re never alone.” Piper held her close for a minute before they both released each other. “But we should get back before Hotch stages an intervention for us both.” JJ laughed again before taking Piper’s arm and pulling her off the bench. They walked back in higher spirits, settling the ghosts of their pasts.

* * *

Spencer, Derek and Piper stood in different positions around the room. Piper had given them a more comprehensible sketch of the unsub’s profile, now standing opposite Derek’s side of the room as he scanned the bored expressions of the kids listening to Spencer’s explanation. Piper was meant to be doing the same but instead, she found herself fighting the urge to fix Spencer’s hair. She hated how he always tucked it behind his ears instead of letting them breathe. He’d protested that it gets in the way of work and listed statistics on hair related accidents, which confused both Piper and an eavesdropping Penelope as to why he knew that.

“Two different mechanisms, strangulation and hyperventilation, create the same effect— oxygen deprivation in the brain. Um...” She followed his gaze to Derek who moved to a kid seated in the back end of the classroom.

“Hey, kid. Not a good idea. Let me see it.” Derek confiscated the kid’s device before quickly reading aloud the message. "What planet is this dude from?" She noticed Spencer’s mouth crease into a line as he played with his fingers while laughter tittered through the class. “He doesn’t want us to win the contest,” Derek continued as he glanced back at Spencer. She would’ve intervened if not for the taut lines on Spencer’s face, a look she recognised from when he’d put people in their place.

“Uh-huh,” Spencer said, an air of light amusement about him as he moved towards the empty seat in the middle of the room. “I think the more accurate statement would be, he doesn’t want us to participate in the contest at all. This was Ryan’s desk, right?” Spencer pointed to the desk. “This is where Ryan sat? You guys remember Ryan. He, uh, played football. Took—took Shaunna to prom. I'm assuming that some of you were probably even friends with Ryan.” He paced the room and Piper’s chest swelled in pride. “Ryan wanted to win the contest, too, but the way Ryan choked himself, he cut off all the oxygen to his brain, which sent a distress signal to his heart, slowing it down. Then his brain, in an effort to preserve itself, shut off all non-essential bodily functions. His arms gave out. His legs gave out. Which means he couldn't loosen the tie around his neck, at which point panic set in, and in Ryan's case, it escalated to cardiac arrest. Which means that his heart stopped. Brain damage began, and within 4 minutes, Ryan was completely and totally brain dead. He died scared and probably in a lot of pain and unable to stop what he thought he had complete control of. All because he wanted to participate in what I consider to be a pretty—pretty lame game. So, I mean, your text is actually completely accurate. I don't want you to win the contest, because I don't want you to play the game.” His fiery gaze met Piper’s soft one and he caught the small thumbs-up next to her waist. But it all came crashing down.

“You believe this guy?” Piper’s head whipped around to catch the sight of a pale boy wearing dark eyeliner and dressed like Prentiss did in high school.

“You don’t?” Piper replied before she could help herself. “Tell me, what is it exactly that you don’t agree with? That this is a lame game? That it was worth Ryan and 3 other kids giving up their lives for? Why don’t you tell us what you believe?” He met Piper’s piercing gaze stoically as he got up.

“Whatever,” he sighed, making his way to the middle of the back wall. Piper had just straightened herself when the kid broke into a sprint out the door and Derek yelled out. She sprinted after him, closer to the back door than Derek, but still a few feet behind the other kid. Derek passed her, signalling for her to cut him off. She veered off into a corridor before sliding down the staircase railing. She heard the squealing sound of sneakers and ran towards it as she held out an arm when the kid rammed against it, the force of it sending him tumbling down. Derek pounced on top of him, gripping his wrists tightly as Spencer joined them, lacing his hand through Piper’s.

“You guys okay?” Derek nodded as he pulled the kid up and Spencer turned to Piper. “You okay?”

“Ehh,” she said. “My arm stings, but I’m good.” She smiled softly at him, waiting for Derek to turn the corner before she kissed him softly, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Hey, lovebirds. Hurry up!” Piper beamed as she pulled away and Spencer groaned.

“Every time,” he muttered bitterly. Piper laughed.

“He’s your best friend,” she sang as they followed Derek and the kid.

“Not by choice,” he snarked.

“I heard that,” Derek shot out as he pushed past the entrance doors. Spencer and Piper followed, far from earshot.

“By the way, I’m really proud of you.” Spencer beamed at her, that rare smile she got to see when he was really, really happy. “The way you handled those kids in there.”

“Really?” Piper nodded, fighting a smile at Spencer’s puppy dog look.

“Yeah. I mean, grace, civility, discipline. I wanted to knock his front teeth out.”

“I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he smirked as Derek led the kid to the SUV outside, but the smile faded as he realised something. “Morgan,” he yelled out. “Check his neck.”

“Oh my god, the choker,” Piper followed his train of thought and the pair sprinted over to Derek as he pulled the choker down despite clear protests. Piper staggered back as she caught sight of the bruise marks around his neck.

“Different colours mean different stages of healing,” Spencer murmured to Derek.

“How long have you been doing this to yourself?” Piper gasped, but the kid didn’t respond, only waiting for Derek to slam the door shut.

“There’s no telling how much his brain has suffered,” Derek pointed out before turning to his seat. Spencer took the seat besides Derek as Piper sat next to the kid. As Derek started up the car, Back in Black started blaring through the radio and the trio had to wrestle down a laugh. But it was to no avail as the kid in black barked out a laugh at the irony of it all.

“AC/DC, really? Let me guess, big, strong and handsome?” Spencer let out a laugh.

“Nah, Derek’s definitely a Toni Braxton guy,” Piper snickered as Derek turned it off and rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

“I hate you both,” he grumbled, and Piper kicked at his seat.

“Just drive, Braxton.” The tension had definitely faded as Piper and Spencer started singing to annoy Derek.

“Unbreak my heart, say you love me again,” they sang until the kid interrupted.

“Is it always this…irritating?”

“Believe me, this isn’t the worst of it. One time, Derek made an unsub sing along to Katy Perry just because he pissed him off,” Piper said, smiling warmly at the kid before turning to the window as they drove to the hospital.

* * *

Spencer dialled Hotch and relayed the news while Derek and Piper got Christopher Summers into the emergency room. Piper joined Spencer outside when she noticed the sheriff walking over.

“You think he’s our guy?”

“Seems like it,” Spencer answered her as the trio noticed another man walking over to identify himself as Will Summers.

“Will, this is Dr Reid and Dr Bishop.”

“Oh, well, uh, how is my son?”

“We’re uh, we’re not that kind of doctors,” Spencer said sheepishly while Piper waved awkwardly. “We’re with the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“We’ve been investigating the deaths of four teenagers and your son’s been choking himself recently,” Piper continued explaining.

“The suicides?” Will seemed confused, but the sheriff abated the tension.

“Turns out they’re not suicides.”

“It's a game that kids his age tend to play where they force themselves to pass out for the, uh, the buzz that it gives them,” Spencer started. “How long has Christopher been dressing in the gothic fashion?”

“The black nails and the eyes and...” Piper listed for clarification.

“A while. He's been having a rough time.”

“Why is that?” Spencer asked as Piper shoved her hands into her blazer pockets.

“His mother died a few years ago, and he's been wearing black ever since.”

“Does Chris spend a lot of time on the computer?” Piper asked, receiving a bark of laughter in return.

“Only every waking—” Wilson Summers seemed to realise the gravity of the situation. “Why?”

“We think your son may have created a website encouraging kids to compete in this choking contest,” Spencer revealed, and Piper kept her face neutral.

“What are you saying?”

“Your son needs to go down for some tests,” Piper said softly as Will turned to look at his son seated in a wheelchair, Derek pushing him to Dr Spire. The sheriff spoke next, telling Mr Summers that they would need to talk to him after the hospital tests were done before requesting access to Christopher’s laptop. Soon, Piper was seated with a cup of coffee, her 6th cup in the last few hours. Spencer sighed and Derek clapped his shoulder, moving to take a seat next to Piper.

“So, you haven’t been sleeping?” Piper chuckled at Derek.

“Spencer tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to say anything. With those dark circles under your eyes, you’re starting to look like a raccoon.”

“Fluffy and adorable?” Piper asked with a laugh, swallowing it at Derek’s firm gaze. “They’re called nocturnal panic attacks.” Her gaze was trained at the multitude of medical equipment. “It’s been getting worse every night. I, uh, I used to see Arthur, then it switched to you guys. Ever since this case, I’ve been seeing my mom.” She closed her eyes, her voice quiet. “Except there’s no unsub, no villain. It’s just me and her, and I’m holding the gun.” She felt Derek wrap his arms around her and she pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck. She sighed into him before pulling away. “I’ll be okay. We need to figure this kid out though.” Derek nodded.

“Why don’t you go back to the precinct? We’ve got it from here.” Piper smiled weakly, pressing a kiss to Derek’s cheek before pulling out her phone to ask Rossi to pick her up.

* * *

Hotch, Emily and Piper stood by the camera of Derek and Spencer talking to Christopher. “He's not very engaged,” Emily commented as she surveyed his apathetic posture, slumped in his seat as he picked at his dark nails.

“Give them some time.”

“Well, it's almost Friday,” Piper grumbled to Hotch. “We don't have any time.”

“Well, as long as he's here, he can't post anything new to his website,” Emily pointed out.

“True, but the kids are still gonna play the game,” Hotch said miserably when Penelope popped in with a file of papers.

“Here's the full background you wanted,” she said, handing the file to Piper who skimmed through the file quickly. Spencer had been giving her tips to improve her skim reading. It was all about focus, apparently, and predicting certain phrases.

“No wonder he feels like a loner,” she mumbled. “Moved 3 times since his mom died.”

“Must have cut off his peer support,” Hotch surmised, reaching out for the file.

“Yeah, well, 3 new schools in 2 years, that’s a lot of adjustment for a kid to make.” Emily shook her head at the scene in front of her.

“Guess he doesn’t trust authority either.” Piper scoffed.

“I’ve never met a teenager who did.”

“He doesn't seem worried about us finding anything,” Emily commented, turning away from Piper to the screen.

“They aren't building any rapport.” Hotch sighed softly, turning to look through the window of their room to glance at the sheriff and Mr Summers. “They’re back.” Piper swung open the door for Hotch and followed him out to the bullpen to meet Penelope.

“This Christopher kid is fantastical,” the red-head whistled as she typed with Rossi and JJ over each shoulder. Piper clapped a hand on JJ’s shoulder, practically hanging off her to get a view in. “He's got a segmented hard drive, Serious firewalls, major league encryption.” Hotch looked at Rossi.

“No reason for all that unless he's hiding something serious,” the Italian murmured.

“Ok, so that's why he isn't worried,” Emily surmised.

“This is--uhh!” Penelope grimaced. “Unusual. Every attack I launch is shot down immediately.”

“What's that?” JJ pointed to a glowing red heading on the game page.

“Somebody just uploaded a new video to the game site,” Penelope said quietly before Piper glanced at her watch.

“It's 12:01. It's Friday. They're playing.”

“It's only a matter of time before some of them go wrong,” Rossi said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Guys, I'm gonna keep dead-ending on this until I get a beat on how he set up his security system.” The team looked to Penelope, then behind as they heard the door to the interrogation room close behind Spencer and Derek.

“Hope you got a plan B,” Derek sighed before moving over to the coffee machine and Piper slipped out to get a breath of night air. While she stared at the stars, Hotch suggested for Penelope to try and gather some rapport with Christopher.

“I think he’ll connect with you more than anyone else.”

“Sir, I—I’ve never done anything like this. What if I mess up?”

“You’ll be fine.”

* * *

Spencer joined Piper pacing in the night air. “Penelope’s going to talk to Christopher,” he started, and Piper nodded, continuing her steady pacing. “You wanna talk?” Piper shook her head, then halted before looking at him. Her vision was blurry, and Spencer pulled her body to hers so that she collapsed into him.

“I feel useless,” she murmured.

“You're doing great, okay? I mean it.”

“These kids are going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Spencer pulled away from her, gripping her shoulders as he held a firm gaze into her damp eyes.

“You wanna do something about it? Then you take my hand and we figure this out together.” Piper chuckled as she wiped her tears.

“I love you; you know that?” Spencer smiled broadly as he outstretched his hand for Piper to take.

“Yeah, though I don’t quite under—" He felt a tug on his hand and her cold metal rings pressed gently into his face as she kissed him softly. “I love you too,” he breathed. “Now, can we please get inside?” Piper let out a small laugh as they walked back towards the precinct, hand in hand.

* * *

Christopher sat patiently, picking at his nails in boredom and a young woman entered the room, much different from Mr Tall-Dark-And-Handsome as well as Mr Cardigan. He knew their names but didn’t particularly feel obliged to use them. “I expected AC/DC to walk in.” Penelope raised an eyebrow.

“The rock band?” she asked confusedly.

“Nah, the agent.”

“Oh! You mean Bishop?” Penelope beamed. “She’d probably like that name. Can I sit?”

Chris shrugged. “You’re the cop.” She smiled again.

“I look like a cop to you?” He shrugged again, taking in the blue jester-style clips in her hair, the glassy apple necklace and bright blue dress.

“Aren’t you?” She shook her head.

“FBI tech analyst. I just have some administrative cyber crud to go over with you. Just a geekette.”

“Cool,” he said dully.

“You are glum,” she commented. “Time is a great healer,” she said, only to receive a scoff in return.

“You have no idea how I feel.”

“I lost my mom and my dad when I was about your age, though. I don't know. I think I have a pretty good idea. And I felt totally alone. Till I found the netizens.” She knew the team probably had no idea what she was talking about, and she was definitely right as Piper turned from her timeline to Emily to ask if the netizens were some family until the latter told her that it meant internet citizens to which the former slapped her forehead, exclaiming that portmanteaus should be a crime.

“BTDT,” Chris said, not impressed but not completely against the blue cop/analyst.

“Hey, I'm... I'm not lying. It'll totally get better. Btw, I like your nails.”

“Thanks. You into goth?”

“You know, I don't think I'm supposed to be anymore,” she replied, showing off her nails. “But the love is still there.” Chris laughed and on the other side of the cameras, both Hotch and Spencer were impressed with how much rapport Garcia had established while Derek just murmured ‘that’s my girl’.

“So, you're FBI?”

“Yeah, I know. It's crazy, but I love it. I enjoy your earring, too. Where did you score that?”

“eBay. It's supposed to be Johnny D's from that pirate movie.”

“Most awesome,” Penelope beamed. Maybe she should do this more often. She straightened, turning more towards the young boy in front of her. “Ok, your whole PGP disc encryption system Is like crazy impressive.”

“Yeah, I'm into that kind of stuff.” The kid smiled. genuinely at the compliment

“Stuff? Dude, you do not understand. I am jealous. That is state-of-the-art technology the feeb does not have.”

“Whatever,” he said, unable to hold back the smile at her enthusiasm.

“Ok. How did you get your anonymizing service?”

“I got it from some link from some dude online. What do you care?”

“I just think it's uber-cool how you set your whole system up. Like how you use an e-shredder to obliterate your net activity and a window wiper as your secondary trash eraser. Who does that?”

“Everybody does that,” he smirked, and she would have laughed until her boss walked in.

“Mr Summers is here. He invoked.” Penelope mirrored Chris’s position as he stood up, walking over to his father, but he stopped before Penelope.

“SYL, Miss P.” He held out a fist for her. “And uh, I do miss my mom.” Penelope smiled at the kid as he walked away. She turned to Hotch helplessly.

“I’m sorry sir, I tried—”

“If he invokes, he invokes. You did good,” he said, his expression neutral as always as he followed Christopher out. Penelope looked down at her hand, opening it to reveal the metal earring in her hand. His metal earring. _Well, supposedly, Johnny Depp’s earring,_ she conceded as she took her place by the computers, Spencer and Derek by her side while the others listened to Piper’s summary.

“Judging by sheer volume, Christopher's mother was sick quite a bit,” Piper continued, marker in hand. “His father brought her into the ER repeatedly. She's described as being violently ill each time. A couple of days in the ICU, miraculous recovery, only to be repeated time and again. No diagnosis, no discernible cause. Now, Christopher's evaluation from the ER shows his bruises to be caused by manual and ligature strangulation over time. Take a look at this,” she said, passing them a picture. “He's also shown to have layered bruising on his sternum.”

“It looks like a CPR artifact,” Hotch said, looking up from the picture.

“But there's no record of resuscitations,” Rossi said confusedly.

“So, his mother’s death is a textbook case of Munchausen by proxy and the kid’s been choked and revived multiple times,” Emily summarised and Piper nodded violently, waiting to let the other foot drop.

“Mr Summers is an EMT and works on Fridays.” Determination set into Hotch’s face as he beckoned the group over to the computers. Before they could relay their findings, Spencer rushed through what they had found.

“In the posts, his voice changes. At times he's using more articles, more precise verbiage, like he's trying to throw us off.”

“That's pretty sophisticated behaviour for a kid,” Emily interrupted.

“A writer can disguise his own writing style to make himself appear younger or less educated,” Spencer explained.

“Yeah, but it's virtually impossible to pull off making yourself appear older and more educated than you actually are,” Derek added.

“There are actually 2 distinct writing style. 2 writers using the same screen name— One teen and one adult. Christopher was being manipulated by an adult.”

“We think it’s the father,” Rossi explained before Hotch relayed Piper’s timeline.

“I guess that makes sense,” Penelope surmised. “Christopher didn't even understand the wiping systems on his computer.”

“So, the father poses as a classmate and invites local kids to join the game,” Derek said.

“Bumps up the stakes and encourages them to use their riskiest methods,” Emily continued, shaking her head as she spoke.

“He works on Friday nights,” Piper added. “Which means he gets called out to do the rescues.”

“He's not just collecting videotapes,” Spencer deduced. “His Munchausen has evolved.”

“Sorry, Munchausen?” The sheriff asked, slightly confused.

“It’s a mental disorder,” Piper summarised. “It’s divided into two categories, self-imposed and imposed on others. Wilson Summers falls into the second category, inducing injuries to his late wife, then his son. But now it’s developed so much that that’s not enough. He has to go after other kids.” She nodded, announcing that she’d put out an APB on his truck when Derek pointed out that Will would need a place to download the videos for his trophies. Rossi realised that Christopher was the only witness against him, and they raced out to the SUVs, passing each other their vests and jackets in the car. Piper gratefully accepted a hair tie from Spencer before elbowing Emily to get her to stop smiling. In the darkness, they each exited their respective vehicles, inching towards the Summers house. Derek and Spencer tried not to stumble through the garden as Piper and Emily ran towards the back of the house. The boys breached the front of the house while Emily kicked down the back door. Rossi called out for the team and they convened in the main bedroom.

“There are dozens of discs here. Mr Summers didn't have a chance to come back and get his trophies.”

“He'll definitely try to download the videos tonight,” Hotch added, clearly worried though no hint of it appeared on his face.

“This kid was doing everything he could just to survive. The extreme abuse conditioned him to shield his father,” Piper said, glancing around the room.

“When his father came in the room, he seemed genuinely relieved,” Emily added.

“His burden had been lifted,” Spencer surmised, glancing towards his pacing boss.

“He was elated when his father rescued him,” Hotch added, crossing his arms. “We need to rethink everything. Now, let's focus on behaviour. What's the pattern?”

“Things boil over, the father moves on,” Derek said simply. “New town, new sadistic MO.”

“Christopher knows his father's pattern,” Emily added. “In his mind, it will never end.” Piper’s face contorted at Emily’s words and Spencer didn’t quite recognise it. Perhaps it was agony.

“Unless Christopher's decided to end it,” she said, her voice faint, but loud enough for the others to hear. Rossi pulled out his cell to call Garcia.

“Garcia?” he called out.

_“Yes, sir?”_

“When you were talking to Christopher, did he say anything to you to suggest that he was giving up?”

_“Giving up?”_

“Was he trying to say good-bye?”

_“I don't understand.”_

“Pen, did he give you anything?” Piper spoke up.

_“Yeah. How did you know that?”_

“What did he give you?”

_“When—when we were talking, he gave me this pirate's earring.”_

“He's made up his mind,” Spencer said as Piper started to pace. “Suicide—The only victory over his sadistic father.”

“He may also see it as reuniting with his mother,” Emily said.

“The father's going to want to download those videos from somewhere, Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the cell. “And we got to stop that process.”

 _“I'm already on that. I replaced the website with a phishing site. I'm downloading it to the servers now. When he logs onto that website, he's going to be rerouted to our server, and we can capture his information.”_ Suddenly, Piper halted, spinning on her heel as she turned to the team.

“His mother.” They looked at her puzzled. “Garcia, where’s Cynthia Summers buried?”

_“Give me a second.”_

“If he sees suicide as a form of reuniting with his mother, there’s nothing more… _poetic_ ,” she spat, the words tasting bitter in her mouth, “than his mother’s grave.”

“You know, for Christopher, a cemetery would be a place of refuge, but for the father...” Spencer trailed off, eyes not quite meeting Piper’s fierce gaze.

“He's revisiting a body disposal site,” Derek finished.

“Oaklawn Cemetery, halfway between here and Glenrock.”

“Well, he’d be perfectly willing to go there,” Emily commented, turning to meet Rossi’s gaze.

“The father still needs a power source to download the videos.”

“There’s a chapel,” the sheriff blurted out. “They use it for burials.”

“Okay, Garcia send us directions. Usual teams. Let’s go.” The team divided into 2 SUVs and the loaned bike, with the girls taking the lead with the bike, Spencer and Derek in one SUV, Hotch and Rossi in the other as they all raced towards the chapel. Emily didn’t wait for the bike to completely stop as she raced inside, Piper hot on her heels as they burst through the door. Piper skidded to Christopher with a yell, pushing his father towards Emily sharply as she unwound the rope around the young boy who was practically limp in her arms. She leant an ear to Christopher’s lips, hearing shallow breaths, before quickly shifting him into the recovery position, one leg atop the other as she shifted his head to lay on his hand before ripping out a cell to call 9-1-1. Chris’s eyes opened as he started taking deeper breaths and Piper sat down in relief as they watched the agents handcuff Mr Summers. She barely heard his voice over the commotion.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him softly, staying with him as the EMTs moved Christopher to the ambulance. Catching JJ’s eye as she got out of her car, Piper moved over, asking a small favour before leaping into the ambulance to Christopher’s side. Spencer watched the ambulance fade away, sweeping his hair behind his ear as Derek clapped his shoulder jubilantly.

Meanwhile, JJ approached Sheriff Samuels. “Well, I can't tell you how much I appreciate y'all coming out here.”

“I'm just glad it ended up ok,” JJ replied to her.

“Oh, come on. Small-time county sheriff calls the FBI about potential suicides, and you drop what you're doing and you come here?”

“We're an asset for all levels of law enforcement. It's what we do,” she offered to the other woman simply, but honestly.

“Well, it's incredible.”

“Thank you.” The sheriff teetered on her heels before plunging into her question.

“Would you like to come with us? We're going to tell the parents what really happened.”

“Uh, no. We need to be getting back.”

“You sure? I mean, I know it won't bring them back, but I would think that knowing that it wasn't intentional might bring some level of comfort.”

“It will, definitely. You go ahead. Good luck, sheriff.”

“Well, thank you, Agent Jareau. And your team.” JJ smiled at her warmly as the sheriff got into her car with Mr Summers in the back, driving over to the station. She caught Emily and Derek grabbing one SUV as Spencer got into another on his own, presumably to join Piper at the hospital.

* * *

He followed the nurse to the hospital room where Piper sat, her vest and blazer draped over her chair as her head leant on the knuckles of her hand. She didn’t notice him approach, finally catching up on her sleep. Until her head slipped off and she heard a chuckle behind her. Sleepily, she tried to slap Spencer’s arm, missing by a few inches. He perched on her free armrest and felt her lean on him as they gazed at the sleeping boy. “You know he has a nickname for you,” he started, and Piper just hummed questioningly, her eyes never leaving Chris. “He calls you AC/DC.” He felt her chuckle softly.

“Back in black, am I right?”

“In every sense.” They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the boy sleeping peacefully. “What are you thinking?”

“I didn’t go to the hospital back when… I always felt so guilty about it. I didn’t get to say goodbye.” She felt his hand latch onto hers.

“She’d be proud of you.” Piper smiled softly as she laced her hand into his. “Does he have anyone to stay with?”

“Yeah. Closest living relative is an aunt in North Dakota. She’s flying in tomorrow afternoon.” Spencer nodded.

“You know we have a flight too.” Piper nodded.

“I just need him to know someone cares about him. That someone stayed with him.” Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of Piper’s head.

“I’ll cover for you. Just be there for the flight.” She laughed softly as she felt his warmth leave her. She grabbed at his fingers, pressing a kiss into the back of his hand.

“Love you.” He beamed, that not-so-rare smile when he was happy.

“You too.” She watched him leave before crossing her legs in her chair as she watched over the dreaming boy.

* * *

Derek was listening to his playlist in the back of the jet, perhaps Toni Braxton, not that he would say anything about it. Garcia was knitting on the other side of the jet near Rossi who was taking the time to do nothing. Piper sat next to Emily who was fumbling with a star puzzle as the former read a classic Austen novel. Spencer sat in front of the two women, staring at Emily’s blocks. “What is that?”

“It's called a star puzzle,” Emily explained, setting the block down. “It's basically impossible to figure out. You have to put all of the pieces back together to form a perfect star. But the origin of it is, um, kind of a romantic tale.” Derek lifted a headphone to listen in and Piper closed the book, smirking. “There was this young prince who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land, so he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom, and he caught a falling star for her. Unfortunately, he was so excited, he dropped it, and it smashed into all of these pieces, so he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love to her, and he succeeded, and they lived happily ever after,” she finished and Piper bit back a laugh as she returned to the book.

“That doesn't make any sense,” Spencer said, trying to ignore Piper’s comical attempts to restrain from either crying or laughter.

“What do you mean?”

“You can't catch a falling star. It would burn up in the atmosphere.” Piper chuckled softly at her boyfriend before turning to Emily.

“Yeah, but it's not literal, Reid. It's a fable.”

“But there's no moral. Fables have morals.”

“Yeah, like Aesop,” Piper added, fighting back peals of laughter.

“Ok. So, it's just a romantic little story,” Emily amended as Spencer leaned over to grasp the block, shuffling them together as she spoke. “And the point is, it's basically impossible to do because you have to take all of those pieces and put them together exactly...” Spencer placed the complete block on the table between them as Emily trailed off. Piper snorted from behind her book as Emily retorted. “There's a lot to hate about you, Dr Reid.”

“Play poker with him sometime,” Rossi added from behind them.

“Try playing chess with him,” Derek commented from behind Spencer.

“Or go,” Penelope added. But only Emily noticed as Spencer pushed the star towards Piper who smiled softly at him from above her book, making the whole endeavour almost worth it.


End file.
